“I’m going to untie this if you don’t mind.” He wasgently tugging at the string of my bikini top causing alittle added pressur... to my stimulated breasts.“Better do it right,” I teased as I turned to look himin the eyes. “I don’t want anything to get in yourway.” You could take that a couple of ways, but I onlymeant it one way, and with the look that I gave him,there was no mistaking!I lay back down and snuggled into the sand. As I moved,my. Jenna always hated working late. She hated that she had to walk home so late. She knew it was dangerous; she always carried peperspray in her bag and a small pocket knife for protection. But, she wished she had put the two in a special place because knowing her luck, one day she'd need it and it'd be at the bottom of her damned bag under all the makeup and electronics. Three blocks later, Jenna was at home. She peeled off her coat and placed it on the rack by the door. She then slipped off her. "By this time, the jury was naturally snickering or giggling amongst themselves. It made the Whipper arch one doubtful eyebrow at John Cage."Really, Judge. I promise as an officer of the court," Cage plead innocently.The focus of Whipper's vision shifted momentarily from Cage to his client. She wondered why anybody would want to walk around in a body like that? She was 4'11" if she was an inch, and what her more misogynistic colleagues would call a "spinner." It was NOT a complimentary. "Salt of the Earth," to use my grandmother's terms, but at the time I really didn't understand what that meant.Mrs. Morrison was a spry sixty-something, much like my grandmother. She invited me in and, as usual, offered me a glass of milk and some cookies– chocolate chip, fresh out of the oven, still warm and gooey. What better way, I thought, to ply a sweet old lady for information than with effusive praise for her baking skills?"Mrs. M, you have outdone yourself," I stated a few minutes.